My life was spiraling into complete chaos, and the only thing that still made me feel anything was the ache between my legs and the promise of being completely used.

Mom had kicked me out two weeks ago after another screaming match. Tuition was overdue, my part-time waitressing job barely covered food, and my savings were nonexistent. I was twenty-one, broke, horny, and aching for something — or someone — to take control and make me forget everything.

That’s how I ended up at The Velvet Underground with a borrowed black card and no panties under my tiny black dress.

The bouncer let me in after scanning the card. The...